Nymph
by Royal Snake
Summary: Her allure is as natural as breathing. She wouldn't know how to keep men from adoring her. Even if she tried. Hermione x Multi pairings. Post-war. Short story.
1. Draco Malfoy

**Disclaimer:** All characters mentioned in the following story are owned by J.K. Rowling unless stated otherwise. Plot and events were written by me. No copyright infringement intended.

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 **Warning:** The following story contains setting and description of sexual nature. Viewer's description is strongly advised.

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CHAPTER 1  
 _ **Draco Malfoy**_

" _It was inevitable. Fate doesn't care about your plans._ "

He took everything for granted. He didn't value the materialistic objects he had. His peers loathed him because he had no appreciation for the simpler beauties of life. He was a brat. He was a coward. He was the last choice anyone would pick to trust.

But war changes people.

And Draco Lucius Malfoy shed the skin of a petulant boy and was reborn a man. He never took anything for granted since – not his life, not his wealth, not even his friends and what little of them remained – and _especially_ not his family's life.

After the fall of Voldemort, the entire Wizarding World of Britain took a great yearlong reprieve to rebuild itself. Little by little, the Ministry was running again, the shops were slowly re-opening; people felt it was safe to walk the streets once more. And finally, Hogwarts opened its door to all the students who wished to come back.

In the pursuit of normalcy, and at the behest of a handful of people that he still cared for, Draco relented to go back to school and finish his final year. But he was nervous, though he would never verbally admit, that after the war he has cut himself off from his schoolmates. The only people he ever lingered around were his father, Severus Snape (when he wanted to escape his father), Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe (when he wanted to escape his father and godfather), and occasionally the awkward letters exchanged with Nott junior – but beyond them he spoke to no one else.

So the fact that Draco was clenching the strap to his book bag a little too tightly to render his knuckles white, and kept his head down while he walked the halls without meeting the eyes of the students from the other houses because it set his stomach into multiple knots, was most certainly not an exaggeration. And if he had had breakfast that day then he would have welcomed it back out the same way it went in.

The Malfoy heir groaned when he revised his schedule for the first day – Transfiguration. Though he proved to be literally _Outstanding_ in the division, he detested the subject and the teacher enlightening it. Even while he was walking toward the classroom in question, he was still mentally debating if he should skip that particular class and attend the next one.

But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a large pale hand clamped down on his shoulder, halting the shuffle of his polished shoes and the gears of his thoughts to a dead stop. Almost like the deflector used his talent in Legilimency to peer into the young Malfoy's mind and spot the scheme to play hooky.

"I trust that you are tackling your schedule with much enthusiasm, Mister Malfoy. After all, it is your last year within the walls of our esteemed school and should make much of your youth before thrusting yourself into the hectic world of adulthood."

Draco turned his head to regard his shrewdly clad addressor. "Yes, Headmaster." He gritted out, with much respect and bitterness he could muster.

Snape craned an astute eyebrow as though he doubted his godson's sincerity, yet was unfazed by his tone. "It would behoove you to _admirably_ do so, Draco."

Draco awkwardly hiked the strap of his bag further over his shoulder with a grimace. "Did my father request you keep an eye on me, _sir_? I do not need to be chaperoned. I _am_ of age majority, yeah?"

"I do not take pleasure in mincing my words. And should your father convey any message to you, you will be _bluntly_ informed of such …. regards." The older wizard tiled his head. "And as your headmaster, I have sufficient pubescent delinquents on my hands than to focus much of my attention on one student." Snape sneered.

But when the dark-haired wizard noticed the flush gracing his godson's aristocratic cheekbones he softened his next words and squeezed the younger wizard's shoulder in a concealed gesture of assurance.

In a much lower tone Snape uttered to the young Malfoy. "I convey not as your headmaster, nor as Lucius' proxy, but merely as a godparent to his godson. Take gratification in these moments spent among your friends, or grow to be old and regret the opportunity."

With slumped shoulders Draco met the older wizard's obsidian gaze. "Yes, uncle." He spoke in a hushed voice to avoid drawing attention to the sentimentality being exchanged by the lease probable individuals.

"Good. Now on your way." Snape released his hold on Draco's shoulder and gave his upper back a hard tap to send him on his route to class before walking in the opposite direction in a flutter of dark robes.

It was a miracle that Draco made it to his Transfiguration class with an extra minute to spare. Mcgonagall was already at her desk, waiting for students to file into their respective seats, and shot Draco a critical stare as he took his place. He already knew what _that_ look meant so he should probably be on his best behavior, since Mcgonagall gave detentions more freely to Slytherins than Dumbledore used to give candy to his office visitors. The aging witch preferred to rob the snakes of their free time, and give all the points to her beloved little cubs.

Draco merely returned the witch's stare before he opened his bag and took out his requirements for the lesson. His resolution for this academic year was to step on as fewer toes as he dared. He just wanted to get this over with.

Even when Potter arrived a few moments after Draco took a seat, did he only exchange a nod with the other boy out of respect of shared past experience during much harder and dire times, but that was the limit Draco was going to spare The-Boy-Who-Lived. There was no mandatory requirement to suddenly become bosom buddies. Potter himself conveyed the same body language to his peers as the young Malfoy heir did. Although in Draco's opinion, Potter's peers didn't get the memo since they still hounded him for being their precious war hero, and the young Weasley girl clung to him like a little parasite.

Draco was suddenly snapped out of his reverie when the door to the class was magically slammed shut by their professor as she rose from her chair and verbally reviewed their semester curriculum, which the white chalk behind her levitated on the black board to write in bullet-points the head topics.

The class started for the first few minutes in silence while the students took notes as Mcgonagall gave the introduction lecture.

Suddenly the door burst open and into the classroom she came. With her book bag barely being held at the edge of her shoulder and her school robes, rolled and draped over her arm haphazardly, almost certainly she was too rushed in her haste to make the class on time to even wear it.

Her hair fluttered about her shoulder in delicate locks as she halted between the aisle of desks, chest heavily panting from the obvious jog, since she barreled into the classroom like a whirlwind of skirt and hair. And it was only when she stopped did the blonde wizard scrutinize the young female carefully.

Draco had to do a double take, because at first glance he didn't recognize who she was. The scarf that loosely hung around her neck and the lining of her ridiculously short pleated skirt proved she was indeed a Gryffindor, but no member he was previously acquainted with. Nothing about her was recognizable. And he would have definitely taken notice of this witch as she had a pair of shapely legs better than he had seen any girl close to his age possess.

Draco Malfoy was so close to labeling this witch as " _unidentified_ ", until Professor McGonagall had to reprimands said witch for her tardiness did Draco's visage morph into thunder-stricken shock and a little bitter awe.

" _Miss Granger_ , it's a little early in the year to start arriving late to your very first class!" Minerva exasperated as she tapped her wand on her free hand, surprising Draco to the fact that the Head of Gryffindor was chastising one her golden pupils.

"I'm sorry, Professor! The shifting staircases delayed me; I couldn't jump them in time. I had to take a detour. It will not happen again!" Hermione replied tripping over her words, still trying to catch her breath from her scurry.

"I would most certainly hope not. As _Head Girl_ you should be setting a good example for the younglings in your house!" McGonagall huffed.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, take a seat, dear!" the professor chided. Precious seconds of her lesson already wasted.

Finally remembering where she was, Hermione dropped on the only spot available next to Harry, who bumped shoulders with her and made the girl instinctively smile at him.

McGonagall resumed her lecture as she discussed their preparations for N.E.W.T.s , but Draco Malfoy couldn't focus on the professor even if his life depended on it.

" _Fucking hell_! I don't remember her being like … _that_!" Greg whispered harshly next to Draco.

But Draco found himself tongue-tied, only able to nod his head once; with fists clenched so tight he snapped his ivory peacock feathered quill. He internally groaned as he recalled leaving his spare quills in his dorm room.

Goyle had a point, she couldn't be the same Mud … the same _Muggle-born_ witch they knew for many years. The first thing he always spotted with the witch was her crazy wild _poof_ of brown curls. It was easy to single out from far away and among crowds, like it was easy to spot Draco's shimmering platinum blonde head of hair as a shining beacon from yards away. But no. _Now .._ Now it was entirely different, yet somewhat the same. The hair was thick as usual but the mess of curls has been managed and tamed into undivided waves of brown locks.

Even the color wasn't that awful unappealing shade of _dirt_. It was darker, richer, an intensely deep mahogany, that somehow mysteriously glittered gold whenever it caught the light in just the right way. And she grew her hair out; it no longer covered the tops of her shoulders. Now it cascaded elegantly all the way down to her lower back in a chocolate waterfall.

When Draco's grey eyes trailed to the ends of the witch's hair, he had to swallow down the heavy lump forming in his throat, when his eyes met a flair of wide hips. It could have been the pleated school skirt that may have exaggerated the flamboyance of her lower physique. But the outrageously short hem of the skirt that ended mid-thigh displayed a pair of thighs and legs that were _too_ sculpted for a girl her age among a sea of stick-figured and slender shaped girls.

In a secluded part of his mind, Draco wondered if her school attire was even within the bounds of proper academic wear. It looked sinful enough, and had the added effect of causing the Malfoy heir's palms to turn clammy, and his limbs to twitch in a way most unbecoming of his pureblooded prestige.

And what irritated the boy further was the verity that she let her conservative robe _lay_ beside her on the seat without bothering to wear it like the rest of her peers. He discreetly looked around the class, no one seemed to notice or care – aside from his group of green and silver peers – nor _she_ bothered to mind as she focused her attention on their professor and wrote down her notes furiously.

That swift motion of her hand instantly snapped the blonde wizard out of his own mental bewilderment, and tried with all his might to keep his attention at the head of the class. A feat which proved to be most challenging in the face of such blatantly display of provocation. Because every few seconds his eyes lazily lingered on the witch sitting in the row adjacent to him before he realized that he missed an entire section of notes that he was struggling to write with a presently split feather. But Draco was grateful that at least _one_ of his friends was bright enough to be an inconspicuous _swot_. Draco looked over his shoulder at the boy in question and mentally decided to borrow Theo Nott's diary.

So instead of trying to salvage his ruined feather, and looking like a complete idiot while doing it, Draco leaned back in his seat and leisurely divided his attention between the professor and a certain witch he deemed curiously and frustratingly interesting enough to observe with maddening perplexity.

* * *

" _My curiosity was hungry. I fed it, but it kept coming back._ "

Their first class couldn't have ended any sooner. And Draco packed his belongings into the bag so rapidly and stomped out of the classroom so swiftly that he was the first person to leave the room even while McGonagall was blathering about something his mind couldn't even begin to care about.

That was the longest hour of his life. The moment he stepped into the corridors, he felt he could breathe so much better the farther the distance he put between him and _that_ room with _her_ inside. After a few moments Greg and Vincent caught up with, and flanked Draco's sides, and the three Slytherins made their way to his next class. Potions.

The Malfoy heir stepped into the laboratory located in the dungeons, while Greg and Vincent went to their Slytherin Common Room. Since they didn't achieve scores high enough to get them into advanced Potions, they were to meet up with the blonde wizard after his lesson.

Even without his cronies, Draco Malfoy should have felt right in his element in this class. Receiving no less than high praise at excelling in the art of brewing magical concoctions with the precision of a seasoned alchemist.

Potions used to be his favorite subject when Snape was teaching. But since he became Headmaster, there had to be a replacement assigned as Head of Slytherin House and their new Potions Master. Other than Snape, no other viable candidate could be nominated, until they decided to pull their last and final resort out of retirement.

"Oh dear boy! Come in – Don't dally by the door!" Slughorn chirped like an overjoyed grandmother.

Draco narrowed his eyes. He half expected to find their Professor completely boozed and dozing off at the desk. If he had anything to go by from their experience with him during their Sixth, and most disastrous, year – the man drank bourbon like it was _water_!

Draco took the usual seat he occupied for many years during his time in the Potions lab. And watched uninterestingly as student-by-student slowly filled the classroom. His attention gradually started to faze as his eyes lingered on a jar of fermented mantis legs resting at the end of his workstation.

"Mister Malfoy," Draco contained the urge to flinch when he realized that Slughorn was standing beside him, attempting to chat him up. "How are you, my boy?"

"Fine, sir. Thanks." Draco clipped. He wasn't in a chatting mood. He _never_ was in a chatting mood.

"How is your father doing? I wished to express my sincere con .."

Draco's grey eyes hardened as he cut the older wizard off. " _Professor_ , I don't wish to be discourteous but perhaps this isn't the proper place to discuss a very _sensitive_ topic, yeah?"

The newly appointed Head of Slytherin looked around the lab at the students busying themselves with their stations. "Oh – well yes, right you are." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps later then, dear boy. Take care of yourself." The older wizard patted Draco on the arm and drifted to the center of the lab to start the class.

Just when Draco was about to sag in relief, he nearly chocked on his own sigh when his gaze caught a head of brunette hair on the other side of the classroom.

His stomach rolled when he observed _her_ laughing at something Potter had said while she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep the sound of her laughter from filtering into the air, as to not disrupt Slughorn's long-winded lecture. And _Circe help him_ – she _finally_ donned her robe and created less of a visual distraction.

Draco directed his gaze elsewhere. He pretended to examine the knife they would be using to prepare their ingredients, with more focus than was intended, but the effort was bungled completely when his lab partner, Theodore Nott, gasped, "Merlin have _mercy..._ " While Zabini, behind them, grunted in agreement.

In a compulsive reaction the Malfoy heir looked first towards them, then followed their gaze to where they were looking. And he regretted it instantly. They were both looking at the Gryffindor princess. _Of course they were!_

She and Potter were partnered together. But the war hero lingered over Granger's shoulder while she prepared the ingredients for both their brews. Draco sneered at _Saint Potter's_ dependence on the Muggle-Born witch while she started slicing their belladonna roots.

It was then that Draco noticed that though Granger had her robe on, the front of it was _completely_ unbuttoned! While she was slicing the roots and moving her arms back and forth, she was unconsciously pushing her breasts together. Breasts that were practically overflowing in her blouse, as the buttons of said blouse looked like they were on the verge of snapping from the seam. If the buttons could talk, they would be screaming for sympathy. Holding the martial together looked like it needed the strength of a Hercules – or, more logically, a good sticking charm, which he half expected her to have casted on her top.

The Gryffindor princess' maroon and gold tie was loosely tied around her neck, and the first three buttons on her shirt were undone. Even from this distance and angle, Draco can spot the obvious hint of cleavage. Even without the assistance of her arms, the white blouse was tight enough to create the seductive décolletage view all on its own efforts. _Merlin have mercy on his soul!_

Draco's mouth instantly went dry and no amount of swirling his tongue could dampen his orifice. He noticed his side of the station had gone completely silent. With a suspicious thought he looked toward his fellow Slytherins, and the few Ravenclaws that managed to get into their Advanced Potions, and his doubts were confirmed that all the male members nearly stood frozen solid like they had been petrified into place. All gazing at the same individual that captured Draco's attention, before they started whispering among themselves in voices, annoyingly, audible enough to the young Malfoy's ears.

"How are those buttons not flying across the lab?" Blaise whispered.

"That is one _lucky_ blouse!" Nott whispered back, winking over his shoulder at his fellow Slytherin. While Blaise nodded furiously at the Nott heir.

"What. A. _Tart_!" Pansy Parkinson huffed. And Draco nearly forgotten her presence, but when he turned to visually acknowledge his lab partner, he took notice that her statement was less factual and more resentful. Right then Draco also acknowledged that _green_ wasn't the only thing _Slytherin_ about Pansy. And it was also never her most complimentary color.

Draco sneered down at his workstation – at all the imbeciles and their primal urges.

….. Or it could be the actuality that Draco's sneer more related to him considering if 'Slytherin green' was to suit another _witch_ in question. His mind was already supplying images he didn't care for, yet couldn't push away.

* * *

Things did not take a turn for the better during their Charms class either.

If someone had held a wand to Draco's neck and threatened to end his life unless he explained what he learned during that class, then his life would be forfeited – simple as that. For the Malfoy heir could only remember the "charm" of a set of pink, pouty lips, which were pursed. And a delicate little tongue that glided across the swollen flesh to moisten it. And that was all he could recall as that was all he could focus on.

The only thing he heard was the groans of Zabini and Nott as they too were focused on the same sight he was being tormented with. As the young Gryffindor witch was concentrating on casting a difficult charm, she centered all her frustrations on abusing her lips with her tongue and teeth, until the skin plumped and swelled into an inviting shade of rosy red. Kissable and succulent.

Draco's hands shook; he couldn't even gather his thoughts to cast his charm spell properly as his wand quivered with his twitchy hands.

To make matters worse, when Flitwick passed by their side of the class to examine their progress, he was very disappointed at all the shortage of it. He deducted five points for their 'lack of concentration', but none of the Slytherin house even gave enough concern to their professor to catch his comment.

All the young Malfoy cared about was if those lips felt as soft and warm as they appeared. And cursed the high heavens that they were so near yet so far out of his reach.

The impression lasted all the way during lunch, while he was in too much of a daze to even know what he was putting in his mouth. The Slytherin table was very lively, buzzing with titillating gossip. And the only hot topic their first day offered was the only one that burned in Malfoy's mind.

His expression adopted a mock sneer, yet his liquid silver eyes sought the target in question, and it took him all of three seconds to spot her from across the great hall. Sitting between Potter and the young Weasley girl. Interestingly enough to Draco's observation, she looked very uncomfortable. A grimace twisting her face as the young ginger haired girl beside her was chatting rather animatedly. _Saint Potter_ was using his arm to shield himself from not getting involved into the conversation.

The Granger girl was shifting her gaze between the two people she was sitting amidst, feeling out of her element, yet she was nodding dutifully to the young energetic female.

Even from this distance Draco could spot the tension in her shoulders, and the clear awkwardness of the situation. And he wanted to seriously kick himself because he shouldn't even notice such a thing, or even care.

Suddenly, the food in front of him didn't look very appetizing, and Draco picked himself up from his seat and left his housemates behind as he departed the Great Hall, even as they were inquiring after him. A shudder passed through the blonde wizard's body when Pansy shrieked very loudly at his retreating form. But Malfoy didn't even spare a glance back.

* * *

Later that night Draco leaned against the cold stonewalls of the second level corridors.

He pondered briefly over his few classes after lunch and the further distractions he suffered. The only way he could have salvaged his sanity was that he had to keep his head down and look anywhere but at the bane of his temporary suffering. He didn't even know how he managed to avoid looking at the brunette Gryffindor when the temptation was too great.

Draco released a quiet groan when he realized he probably shared the rest of his classes with the Gryffindor princess, and not just today, but every other day of the week. It wasn't new information that she and Draco both excelled in their scores, and only a handful of selective few were accepted into advanced N.E.W.T level classes. So the space to get lost in the throngs of students during their sessions was impossible. He would literally have to see her every single hour of the day, even through meal times, until he retired to his dorm room for the night.

Even when dinnertime arrived, he couldn't enter the Great Hall. Between avoiding hawk-watching the Gryffindor witch, his Slytherin mates gossiping about her, and Pansy Parkinson dramatically gagging at the mention of Granger while suffocating Draco's personal space – he wouldn't be able to last the end of the week!

Instead of entering the Great Hall for dinner, the young Malfoy back tracked his steps, swallowed a gallon of his pride and went to the kitchens to collect a plate of food directly from the culinary elves instead. The advantage was that no one would have witnessed his shamefulness, a pureblood wizard and a Malfoy, down at the kitchens – since all staff and student body were convened for dinner. But the disadvantage was _also_ that if he were spotted then he wouldn't be able to live that down. Even his own godfather would relish rubbing it in his face.

After his quiet and solitude dinner in his dorm room, Draco quickly prepared for the night rounds. If he were a prefect he would have skipped the rounds, but as a Head Boy, he had more obligations to navigate the other prefects from his house and to neglect his duty would reflect badly on him and his reputation.

After assigning each prefect their own section to do patrols, he hid in a nearly deserted corridor on the second floor, getting a moment of peace from the chaos in his mind, while avoiding anyone that might come his way.

But his blissful moment was cut short – for the fact that he grew rigged when he heard a shuffle of footsteps from the connecting corridor. Since he was still, the torches in the corridors dimmed down, but magically sensing motion from another body, the torches were lighting up again.

Though it was completely foolish, since the young Malfoy had every reason to be patrolling the halls, he felt rather silly when he ducked into the nearest alcove and hid from sight. There he was, a young man of all 6 feet and 3 inches, Head Boy, a Malfoy, and a Seventh year and he was hiding in a corner alcove like a first year after curfew. For the second time that day he wanted to kick himself.

He survived a war by the skin of his fingernails, and _this_ was what becomes of him? _Never!_

If there was any time to act like a Head Boy with the rightful authority then it was now. The Slytherin kept to within the shadows of the alcove as he heard the footsteps growing closer to him. Whoever was scurrying about should be the one shame faced since they had no right to be out past curfew. The young Malfoy would wait until they got close enough and then catch them. And if they were from the other three houses then it would be an added bonus to deduct points.

They were coming very close! Draco silently crept to the edge of his alcove; his hand was ready to snatch the arm of the interloper.. 3 feet .. 2 feet .. and then he bent his torso out of the shadows and grabbed hold of an arm.

The person jumped and shrieked. It was a slender arm, and the scream was high pitched and feminine – a girl. When he turned the female towards him, Draco wished he never came out of his hiding spot. In fact he wished he had let the person he currently had a hold of carry on walking.

Instead, he now had a firm grip of the one person he wished to avoid. Hermione Granger was panting heavily, her heart literally beating out of her chest from fright. Their eyes connected, and for a moment, everything went still. Not even sound filtered through the bubble that encased the two people who were standing alone in the abandoned hall.

But the silence was brief as the brunette witch protested. "Ouch! Draco, your grip is too tight!"

That seemed to have snapped the Malfoy out of his reverie as he released her arm like he was burnt.

Trying to gather some of his wit, he puffed out his broad chest with his pureblood arrogance and stood tall over the witch before him, towering over her. "What are you doing out past curfew?" he hissed.

Hermione instantly snapped her head to meet Malfoy's grey gaze. He noticed the ire that filled her whiskey kissed eyes.

"For your information, _Malfoy_ , I also happened to be on patrol. Since you obviously missed the _Head Girl_ badge on my robes!" Hermione answered in her haughtily tone, the one she always adapted when she came prepared with every answer for every class.

For some reason or another, it didn't have the same irritating quality that Draco loathed. The bite was gone. The annoyance it spawned to every listener, failed to deliver. If he was even an inkling honest with himself, she actually sounded quite endearing.

But the Malfoy shook that confusingly warm feeling off and prepared to retort in his snide manner. When suddenly behind them they heard a cat's meow echoing off the stone corridor.

Both house rivals stiffened as their ears perked up. "That's Mrs. Norris, which means Filch is right on her tail – _literally_!" Hermione whispered, more to herself.

Draco hissed in annoyance because he agreed with the witch. Whether they were authorized to be there or not, Filch would use any excuse to rain his tirade upon them.

The brunette witch turned in the opposite direction. "We should probably go … Hey!" She was about to yelp when Draco grabbed her by the waist and dragged her to the same alcove he just occupied.

Hermione, noticing Malfoy's intention to hide instead of flee, produced her wand. " _Nox!_ " she spoke a little too loudly and the torches in their corridor instantly went out.

And to prevent her from saying anything else that would lead them to get discovered, Draco covered her mouth, making the Gryffindor flinch in his arms.

She accidently elbowed Draco in the ribs. He suppressed the groan of pain, but couldn't maintain his balance as he toppled over. And since he had a hand around the witch's torso, he dragged her down with him.

Hermione landed gracelessly between his legs and her back connected with Draco's chest, as they landed on the stone floor in a heap of limbs. But rather than complain, they held themselves still when the flames lit their corridor again.

Hidden in the safety of the shadowed, narrow, alcove they heard Filch and his familiar prowling their way. Draco silently prayed to whichever deity was watching them that they would not be discovered.

It was certainly proving to be difficult as the young Malfoy had a warm, soft, womanly body so close to him. Her head was barely below his chin, and he couldn't resist catching a whiff of her hair and the fruity shampoo she used. It tingled his senses and he felt pleased by it.

When it came to feminine aromas, Draco always preferred fruity to floral. He tried not to make it too obvious to the witch nestled so close to him that he was inhaling the delectable scent of her hair. That would have been as equally mortifying as being discovered by the grouchy caretaker. _Why did she have to smell so fucking good_?

As if she could hear his mental self-berating, Hermione tilted her face up at the Malfoy heir. Their eyes connected, warm hazel to stormy grey. But that wasn't what caused both individuals to suddenly stiffen.

The awkward angle caused their lips to accidently brush against one another. It was as gentle as a skim of a butterfly's wing. The touch of warmth to his lips sent a jolt through Draco's body.

He didn't know if it was him or the witch that was pressed to him that sought another kiss. But he found himself tangled in a lip lock with the young Gryffindor. Her lips felt so good as she eagerly kissed him back. The growing desire he felt from the witch's body was intoxicating.

Instinctively, the Slytherin wrapped his strong arms around her body and pressed her tightly against his chest as he deepened the kiss further.

Hermione moaned against his lips, and the response sent electricity straight to the young man's crotch.

But just when he thought things couldn't go any further, he felt Hermione's tongue skim across his bottom lip, silently asking to be let in. In that moment, she could have asked for anything and he could have given it to her, but for now, Draco parted his lips to her as her tongue proceeded to penetrate his mouth.

Their tongues did no clash, nor did they fight for any dominance, but instead, they swirled around and mated in harmonious unity.

Hermione melted in the blonde wizard's arms. And Draco took strong masculine pleasure in her delicate feminine moans. He responded by pulling her much tighter against him. If the pressure of his arms was too much, the young witch did not let it be known.

Instead, Hermione placed one elegant hand over his broad chest, brimming with youth and solid muscles. And gently crept her other hand towards the back of Draco's neck. Her fingertips gently kneading the exposed skin that peaked from the edges collar of his shirt. Draco deeply purred at the exquisite feeling. And if that was not torture beyond torture enough to his celibate body, the witch slowly pressed her hip, in a grinding motion against Draco's ragging erection.

They didn't know how long they kept snogging. It could have been minutes; it could have been close to an hour. But eventually the young couple needed to catch their breath, and reluctantly their lips separated from each other. But they still kept their hands wrapped around one another as though they wanted this mysteriously enchanting moment to prolong for as long as possible.

Their foreheads were pressed against each other's as they panted for air. Their warm breathing mingled deliciously and invitingly for another round of a kissing session.

The fair-haired wizard thought the witch would be too shy to utter a word to break the silence. But not only did she surprise him by speaking first, but also by what she declared. "You stole my first kiss." She whispered against him.

It wasn't an accusation, Malfoy realized. As her tone and the whisper of her voice was soft and intimate. And there was no hint of regret in it either.

Draco couldn't help himself. He could feel a smirk stretching on his kiss swollen lips. "But I gave you mine in return." He whispered back.

"You're lying." The witch declared. Draco didn't know if he would have blanched at her detection of his untruthfulness. But the playful hint in her words eased his defensive backbone.

"Alright – you are not the first. But you're a close second. And that is saying something at least." He replied, reaching up he tucked her hair behind her ear and playfully traced her earlobe.

Hermione stroked her hand that was still resting on his chest, her fingers appreciatively touching his tight pectorals. Draco's free hand in turn, crept down and over her waist until it landed gently on her bum.

The witch squirmed in his arms, and Draco couldn't help but squeeze the flesh of her arse. He was rewarded with the young, curvy female moaning and melting further into his arms. She placed her head on his shoulder and turned her face towards the curve of his neck and placed a gentle kiss on the edge of his rugged jaw.

The wizard rested his back against the stone wall of the alcove, and tilted his neck to the side to grant more of his skin for the witch's lips to shower with kisses.

"When did you become like this?" Draco sighed.

"Like what?" the witch replied between kisses.

"Like … I don't know …. Like so fucking sexy."

"I don't know what you mean."

Draco didn't know if she was playing coy, or if she was genuinely oblivious to her affect. "You might be ignorant, but I sure as hell couldn't keep my fucking eyes off you the whole day. You've changed, Granger."

Suddenly the kisses on his neck halted. "Good change, or bad change?" the movement of her lips tickled his skin. And stirred that same feeling deep in that masculine part between his legs.

He flexed his hand that rested on her arse. "Its good. Very good. Trust me, yeah?"

Hermione giggled before snuggling her face towards the Slytherin's neck. "If you say so." She whispered, her voice tantalizing and seductive.

Draco could have shamelessly spent the entire night hidden in that dark alcove, snuggling and kissing the young alluring girl in his arms.

But sadly reality caught up with them and they had to return to their dorms before the teachers started doing their own rounds in making sure all students were present in their beds.

Reluctantly they parted in opposite directions, Hermione to her Gryffindor tower, and Draco to his Slytherin dungeons. But not before they shared one long lingering, tongue mating, and final kiss. Fearing that once daylight broke, whatever enchantment has saturated the air between them would evaporate the very next day.

The only thing that hung in the air was the promise of meeting at the same time, in that very same place.

* * *

The first week ended sooner than expected. And the castle buzzed with the excitement of the weekend. Especially the seventh year students as they were allowed early permission to visit Hogsmeade, while their lower year schoolmates would await till next month. But the luxury of a class-free two days was still an exhilaration to the young ones.

The end of the week was something a certain dark haired wizard would have lavished. But the duties of being headmaster were not put on hold even during the weekends – unfortunately.

Severus Snape reclined back in his fine leather wingback chair, and very briefly closed his eyes, relishing that moment of quiet in his office. It was a rare and undisturbed moment indeed as even the occupants of the portraits left their frames empty to wander about the castle.

His tranquil minute was short lived however as he sensed through the castle's sentient magic that someone was requesting access to the gargoyle statue guarding the headmaster's office chambers.

Granting permission to his visitor, Severus wiped a hand over his face and rose from his seat just in time for his office door to swing open.

Draco stepped in and closed the door subtly behind him.

During the weekends, Severus permitted Draco an exception to visit Malfoy Manor through the Floo Network that exclusively connected via his office. Now more than ever Severus understood the need for Draco to constantly keep his father company in their desolate manor.

As the older wizard escorted the Malfoy heir he noticed the dazed and absentminded look on his young face.

"Care to share was has _enraptured_ your thoughts so fiercely, Draco?" Snape scrutinized.

The blonde Slytherin jumped, not realizing that his godfather was standing so close to him until his voice cleared the fog that has been clouding his mind this past week.

Draco turned his face away from his headmaster, only because he couldn't hide the heat that bloomed over his skin.

Severus decided to take another opportunity to probe the young boy before him. He knew he didn't have to push hard. Snape always had a way to make his godson spill all his troubles. "If something is on your mind then you need only speak of it, Draco – You do know you could tell me anything."

"It's nothing, uncle. Really … I just …. It's school stuff. Being back here, like it's all _normal_. It will take time to get used to it, yeah?" Draco flustered.

"You could tell me more before you leave for the weekend." It was strange for the dark haired wizard to see Draco so nervous around him.

"Maybe when you come to visit us tomorrow?" The young Malfoy inched towards the clay pot that held the floo powder and grabbed a handful of it before throwing it into the fireplace and announcing his destination.

"See you tomorrow, uncle." Draco called back swiftly before he disappeared in a swirl of green flames.

Severus stood for a while as he eyed the now empty fireplace. It was odd how the young Malfoy heir was suddenly so tight lipped when he had a loose tongue and would always confide in his godfather. Something must have happened to change the young boy's attitude.

He doubted it was something so flimsy as it would pertain to mere _school stuff_. Draco was after all the brightest wizard of his generation. Severus would have to owl Lucius concerning his son's troubled state.

But for now – and speaking of the brightest minds – the headmaster retreated back to his desk. He had a more pressing matter to attend to. A complaint to be more specific, from several teachers, regarding the state of their students being equally as distracted by a certain outrageous display from the last person Severus excepted to hear such a claim against.

Picking up his ebony wand, Severus sent a Patronus message to his colleague, knowing she would be in her office alone at this early hour. ' _Minerva, please inform your Head Girl to proceed to my office at once_.'

Severus watched as the doe form of his Patronus galloped around his desk before it disappeared through the wall and towards it's intended.

Relaxing in his chair, the headmaster released a sigh.

His morning would sure be an eventful one, indeed.

 _ **To be continued …**_


	2. Severus Snape - Part One

**Disclaimer:** All characters mentioned in the following story are owned by J.K. Rowling unless stated otherwise. Plot and events were written by me. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

CHAPTER 2  
 _ **Severus Snape : Part One**_

" _It started out simple. Took shape with a little sway. And ended with significance._ "

 ** _He_** loathed sitting in solitude with nothing except his thoughts to keep him company for a significant stretch of time, especially when he reflects upon the menacing deeds that had transpired within their ominous past.

Severus Snape, regnant Headmaster of Hogwarts – with bitterness and esteem – made a conscious reminder to never reflect upon what his retched hands had once committed. He swore to lock those memories within the deepest corners of his despondent mind.

He begrudgingly took the position of Headmaster because he knew the magnitude and responsibility of such an occupation swallowed up every inch of a man's mind, body, and spirit.

The dark wizard scoffed as he wondered how in the world could his predecessors maintain their obligation without spiraling into alcoholism, depression, or going on a mad killing spree across the school.

Snape's clandestine eyes narrowed on a specific large ornate frame hanging high on the wall of his circular office. One of many frames that hung in a row overlooking the Headmaster's desk – of individuals who once-upon-a-time sat in the very same seat Snape was currently residing in.

But all the enchanted frames were currently vacant, as none dared to linger about when the tyrannical head of the Wizarding School was in office. Except for one. A cheerful one. A cheerful one that had a twinkle in his mischievous eyes and adorned pastel lavender robes, and had a zesty sweet presence to his quality that it could make a person's teeth rotten to the very nerve!

' _But thank Circe's high heavens_ ,' Snape thought with bitter relief, as the 'twinkling shimmer' to his banging migraine was busy bothering other souls that catered to his very saccharine companionship.

' _Why did I take this position again?_ ' he evoked to himself as he did so numerous times when the foundation of his ironclad will began to judder. He heaved a feeble sigh as he mentally recited the justifications: Because he had nothing better to do. Because nobody would take the job. Because his predecessor left the care of the students to him with his dying breathe. Because Lucius Malfoy wanted someone he trusted to keep watch over his son while he slowly acclimated to a normal, _post war_ , life.

Those were the _intentions_ Snape could come to terms with. But there were other motives he would never acknowledge in this lifetime – not yet, not ever. Although the demons in his mind never heed his commands, and whisper to him as though their lips were upon his ear.

….. Because being in this school was the only thing that was ever good in Severus' grim, sullen, miserable life. The only thing that gave him any true fulfillment. _And_ his options were extremely limited; to be the Headmaster, or surrender to early retirement.

Despite the fact that people may find it hard to believe from his appearance and lackluster personality, but Snape hadn't even reached half a century in age. Retirement was a pathetic option, especially when his peers were twice his age and had more spring in their step than Snape had ever possessed in his little pinky finger during his preadolescence.

The dark wizard suddenly jolted from his thoughts, like being pulled out of bed from a horrible night terror. He blinked several times to clear the veil of haze that fell upon his eyes as he took in the scenery of his empty office once more, and grew agitated within a second.

Deep familiar furrow lines formed between his brows. His long poised fingers fanned across the lavish wooden desktop before suddenly clenching whiter than his fair skin at the knuckles with ire budding from the center of his being.

It truly was irritating to be alone with one's own thoughts. And he, of all people, knew better. Snape would usually fill the solitude with a session of a good book or a rare tome.

And if he was sadistic enough, he would have swept the halls and caught several students who would be hiding in what they assumed were dark and abandoned corners of the corridor, engaging in salacious behavior. After all, one of the many naïve fears of a student is to be detained, particularly when it was a weekend. A time to be temporarily unshackled from academia, only to see the sliver of hope leave their eyes.

Yet the dark wizard knew it wasn't his leisure time for such unsympathetic indulgence. Though the Slytherin in him begged to differ.

The Headmaster sighed – In fact; there was a certain summoning that had yet to be fulfilled. Chancing a glance at the Grandfather clock by the large hearth vexed his grim mood further. Half an hour had passed, more than adequate time for one to walk all the way to his office from a certain _maroon and gold_ tower.

The Headmaster was sure that all the students had already dispersed from breakfast by now, especially if they desired to prepare for their little trip to Hogsmeade and to return in time for lunch to be served in the Great Hall.

The certain individual that Snape had summoned was by far the most punctual of all the students he has seen in all his years that he taught at the school. And whether it be a weekend or not, the girl in question knew where her priorities lay …. _or so he had assumed_.

In truth, considering the claims that lay before the Headmaster, he wasn't very sure at the moment. Such accusations were brought against people of " _below"_ academic standards – not ones who excelled in them – that when Severus reviewed the reports from the professors, he had to confirm and reconfirm the name several times to assure himself his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

However …. if the accounts that lay upon his desk were not of fabrication then it would completely contradict with McGonagall's designation of the girl to be head of her house. Snape wouldn't have accepted it to be so had it been any other person. But since it was the fabled _Gryffindor Swot_ then the older wizard's doubts were for naught.

Were these claims a concoction of fiction? No – not unless the professors were in cahoots. Though he doubted that too.

His mind was in a tangle of conflictions; to be lenient or to not be lenient. Then again, he wouldn't, because it would go against every strict bone in Snape's body to be … " _tolerant"_ of a student's imprudence. He never entertained it while he was a professor and he certainly wont start as a Headmaster. And that went twice as much for the girl as she had double the responsibility the moment she took the position of Head Girl of her prided house of Griffin. And her tardiness was simply the _bitter_ cherry on top!

The dark wizard felt a hum in his magic, signaling a presence – _Her_ presence – standing before the gargoyle entrance to the office.

 _Well, well, well … fucking praise be Merlin!_

The headmaster gave a slight wave of his hand, his magic signaling the entrance to grant passage.

Whatever shred of mercy he felt like bestowing was crushed beneath the heel of his dragon-hide boots like the discarded bud of a well-exhausted cigarette. Not that he smoked to appreciate the sentiment, but the memories of them were imbedded within the depths of his much younger years.

But that was neither here nor there.

* * *

" _I shall call her Venus, and she shall lead my way."_

"Miss … Granger?" the wizard spoke, so sure at first yet the lingering hint of a question left him sounding irresolute. His hand gently placed on the edge of the Headmaster's door to prevent it from opening fully.

And there, before him, stood a girl in her pint-sized glory. With him, and his towering mass of black … well .. black _everything_ , looking down at the top of her flowing chestnut hair. Had the Headmaster been slouchier, absence a proper spinal posterior, then anyone could have easily mistook him for a Dementor. His thick head of shoulder-length hair was the perfect rendition of the shadowy creature's hood. And during his teaching period he was compared as such by the little class maggots.

The wizard virtually thought another Gryffindor came to his office. And as he opened his mouth – in the process of verbally dismissing this unsolicited attendance – the girl tilted her head up, clear bright eyes directly meeting his own murky stygian gaze, and spoke before he could.

"Yes, sir. Professor McGonagall expressed that you wished to see me." The wee little brown _speck_ answered.

 _By the grace of Circe's left tit …_ The Headmaster ascertained, with well-concealed shock, that the person standing before him was indeed the very same person he has requested to his office.

The wizard stoically stepped back and pulled the door to open wider, allowing the girl to enter. She kept her head down and proceeded inside the office with the door gently clicking shut behind her by the much taller man.

"Have a seat." Snape uttered as he briskly rounded her form and made his way to his own chair behind the deluxe desk.

Usually – and by his predecessor's preference – there would be _two_ leather-winged armchairs facing his direction. However, Severus fancied just one to be placed as such. Entertaining an individual was a chore, a second was only to be spurned, and a plethora of people was a living nightmare.

Though Snape was a person of strange macabre, there were however some aspects of his personality that were not uncivil. No one can say he wasn't a gentleman when he remained on his feet, awaiting the girl to be seated first, before he lowered himself down in his own chair – After all, his long deceased mother would be rolling in her grave to know that her boy's etiquette was less than impeccable. Perhaps that's where he got his standards of high expectations from and accepted nothing inferior.

Perhaps he should stop self-reflecting and focus on getting this 'issue' done with …

Snape clasped his hand together atop his well-organized desk and pointedly stared at the girl for a few seconds. Even to the muddled and dimwitted observer they could affirm that the girl did indeed diverge from the familiar mousy appearance that was easily recognized.

There were a few selective words the mature wizard could have used to describe her current state. But one thing certainly never changed – he realized with some satisfaction – she, like any other, still squirmed beneath his penetrating gaze.

"Miss Granger, I would much like to skip to the core of the matter and ask you directly – do you know why you were summoned to my office?" The Headmaster spoke calmly.

The girl grabbed the front hold of her neatly buttoned robes and fiddled with the hem. After a second or two she replied timidly. "Professor McGonagall didn't say much, sir."

Slowly Severus clasped his hands even tighter, but the witch did not seem to pick up on his change in mood. "I did not ask for your _Professor's_ input. I am asking _you_ if you are aware of any revelation as to why you are sitting in my office, across from me, in this very moment and on a Saturday morning." One would easily be fooled by his gallant tone, yet his words were like daggers.

The simple twiddling of the young Gryffindor's fingers grew into worriedly wrinkling her academic robes. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed a hand over her garments and tucked a silky long stray lock of loose hair behind her ear.

In that single fragment of time, a momentous thing happened before Severus' very shrewd eyes. The girl's entire demeanor changed. It was subtle, but very much significant to the point that it even affected the undercurrent in the whole room.

Her delicate hands were folded neatly and calmly on her lap. Her rosy lips slightly parted – why he felt the need to observe their rosy tint was beyond him – and her light brown eyes looked upon the wizard from beneath surprisingly long, and incredibly thick lashes.

Those eyes that met his own dark irises were like nothing he ever felt before. It was like her gaze spoke a secret language and with each passing second those clear whiskey eyes bewitched in a way that felt almost captivating.

Even the flavor in the air took a dramatic shift, growing astonishingly warm and heavy and _sweet_. Snape thought for a moment he had lit the hearth during this early time in the morning, but a visual confirmation of the fireplace proved that wasn't the case.

The young witch smiled gently. The beating in his chest fluttered for a moment. "I could only assume it had to be something rather serious if anyone is called to the Headmaster's office during a weekend rather than a week day, sir." She answered with the most curt and polite tone. He felt pulled by her voice, her words, though nothing was spoken insolently.

Her tone – _that's it_ – Her tone completely _changed_ , like another person was sitting across from Snape's desk. Her voice was calmer, slower, slightly sultry, and honeyed on the ears than the finest music the dark wizard has ever heard.

The Headmaster adjusted his tightly buttoned collar before reclining back in his seat. Though he looked calm on the outside, the experience of many years of controlling his reactions and emotions, his inner thoughts however were in a quarrel about this enigma before him.

Snape reached to the side of the table where a stack of parchments were neatly laid on his desk in a properly folded pile, and dragged the bundle to the centre of the desk for attention emphasis.

While he moved his hands, he made sure to keep his attention on the Gryffindor in front of him. The girl's eyes followed the motion of his hand until it stopped at the middle of the polished wooden surface. He could see the curiosity in her eyes. And he was about to illuminate to her summons; _right now_.

"What you see before you, Miss Granger, are a heap of complaints from several teachers," He slowly relaxed his hand to let the papers fall one by one. " … on your behavior in class." He finished sharply.

Hermione's eyes widened. "My … behavior?"

"Indeed." Snape affirmed. He relaxed marginally. It seemed that whatever exacerbated his senses had alleviated.

"B-but sir …" the girl began to say but the wizard interrupted her.

" _Silence_!" The older man commanded, feeling more like himself by the second. "I do not wish to spend whatever luxury of my time rehashing every blight and nuisance I had to review in these reports in great detail,"

"I will, however, cut this meeting short with a rather fair resolution, in my opinion." The headmaster tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the young witch. "Let this be a severe warning to you, Miss Granger, for your position as Head Girl depends on it,"

"You are to be placed under immediate probation, and if for any reason your status as appointed Head of your house is marred by further incompetence regarding any future notices I receive about... _disruptions,_ in any semblance – Then consider yourself relegated from your position, permanently. You wont even be demoted to Prefect."

"Isn't this a little extreme, Headmaster?"

He sneered. "Extreme is the amount of trouble you conjured upon yourself so early in this year. I suggest you start by sorting out your priorities accordingly. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." The witch replied, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"Splendid. Now proceed on your way out." The wizard dismissed.

The girl rose from her chair, her eyes firmly glued to the ground. And for an imperceptible moment, the wizard felt an uncomfortable tug forming in the pit of his stomach. But like all unnecessary emotions, he squashed the feeling before it grew too tangible to define.

Severus watched the young Gryffindor make her way to the door, her shoulders drawn down; a slaughter lamb. A small voice in the darkness of his mind urged him that he was perhaps being a bit too insensitive, but like any other time that little voice spoke, the wizard paid it no heed.

The young witch pulled the office door open, and as she walked through and proceeded to close the door behind, her name was called. "Miss Granger .."

Hermione lifted her head to meet the gaze of her former teacher and current Headmaster. "Yes, sir?" She responded timidly. Whiskey eyes filled with desolation.

"I'll be watching, Miss Granger. Do not disappoint." The dark wizard spoke.

Something shined in the young girl's amber gaze that Severus didn't have a chance to look upon further. For she immediately shut the door to his office, leaving the man once again alone.

And once he was finally alone, with no eyes prying into his every movement, Severus forcefully slumped in his plush leather chair and undid a few of the buttons that were suddenly pressing too tightly into his Adam's apple. His breathing was slightly strained, like he was walking up endless sets of stairs for hours. And it didn't help that the room still felt uncomfortably warm, like a live fucking furnace!

Snape flicked his wand and instantly all the windows were swung wide open to allow the morning breeze to glide across the room.

 _Merlin grant him strength_ – he still couldn't believe he was looking at the same bookish know-it-all that had annoyed him for so many years. She had to be the same person. Completely and utterly metamorphosed, yet having regretfully taught the little swot, Snape had to concede. The girl …. the _young lady_ was indeed Hermione Granger.

The wizard ran his fingers through his ebony hair, and summoned a freshly filled decanter of brandy and a glass. Perhaps it was too early to drink, but with how the day was starting, he was allowed at least a glass of the inviting liquid to calm his slightly jittered thoughts.

* * *

The next evening of the very next day, Severus went to Malfoy Manor to visit his long time friend and his godson. As the Floo network recognized Snape's magic, he was granted direct access to Lucius' private study, a little something Severus set up so that only Draco and himself could travel back and forth exclusively with ease.

Severus emerged from the green flames of the lavish hearth to be welcomed by the decedent décor of Lucius' opulent office. He expected to see his old friend by the desk, perched over his paper work. Something the elder Malfoy has been doing a lot of for the past several months.

Yet, the dark wizard was slightly surprised to see his blonde friend sitting on the armchair beside the magnificent hearth and balancing a glass of ember colored liquid on his knee. Malfoy senior was eyeing the glass intently until his icy grey eyes spotted the black fatigues of the Hogwarts headmaster.

"Isn't it untimely for you to be drinking, Lucius? You may spoil your dinner." Severus smirked, although the irony of drinking at the most inappropriate times wasn't lost on the dark wizard.

The blonde man raised an eyebrow. "I will pretend I didn't hear that. Lord knows I deserve a drink and then some."

Snape stood for a while and studied the other man's solemn expression. "Trouble at Malfoy industries?" He concluded.

"Hardly." Lucius scoffed. "If anything, it is doing better than it ever has since it's founding. The board is quite over the moon."

He eyed the crystal tumbler as his hand swirled the drink around. "Hell … the company is practically running itself without me so much as lifting a finger anymore." He lifted the glass and downed the last of his drink in one gulp.

Snape walked toward the black tufted leather sofa adjacent to the armchair his friend was occupying and gracefully sat down. "One would assume that the mood would be much uplifted than the sourness you are displaying. If anything, see it from another perspective. You can now make due with the additional time to spend with your son."

Lucius laughed bitterly. "He shan't be wasting his youth to spend it with his old man."

Snape frowned. "Speaking of the budding manhood, where is my delightfully irritating godson?"

The blonde wizard quirked a smile before his features fell in a scowl. "In his room. Doing what young, _hormone-addled_ , men do best."

The characters in the portraits in Lucius' study had their ears perked at the conversation swirling about the youngest heir. Lucius has been around them for far too long to care about their attention, and had long since grown to ignore them. Snape on the other hand was not, and shifted in his place with dark eyes glaring at the curious spectators.

"He has company?" Severus leaned in his seat toward his friend. He tried to lower his voice, but the high ceiling of the study made for an impossible task as the words echoed across with clarity.

Lucius turned to his friend with a deadpanned expression. "No." he simply answered, absent a proper elaboration as he stared pass the headmaster's shoulder, at nothing in particular.

Snape could ascertain the other man was lost in thought when his vision became unfocused. It only took the dark wizard a second to decipher what his long time friend meant. " _Oh_ …. I see."

He relaxed back in his seat and smirked in amusement. "I suppose you came across that little _discovery_ unintentionally?"

The elder Malfoy slammed the tumbler on the side table with more force than intended, and had the glass been made with inferior quality crystal it would have shattered very easily. But being a Malfoy meant being surrounded with only the finest.

The blond wizard rose from his chair, at the exact time that an elf pop in front of them to announce that dinner was served.

Severus sighed at how their evening was shaping up to be so far.

* * *

" _Forever, we will change_."

The Malfoy Manor was so grand it had several ballrooms, sitting rooms, multiple foyers, and a few dining rooms for all occasions.

The private dinner was held at the smallest of the dining rooms. Small when compared to their other larger counterparts, but in no shape or form was it even minuscule in measurements and splendor. The walls were covered in the deepest shade of ornate patterned oxblood wallpaper to provide an intimate milieu.

Three out of the four walls were decorated with vast paintings of ancient Roman dynasty, from gods and deities, to harem filled courtyards. The figures moved gracefully around the paintings in their own respective scenery, with the canvases charmed to emit no sounds as to refrain from disturbing the occupants at the table. The fourth wall had three massive, ceiling-long, arched French doors that overlooked the vast back garden, with long draped black curtains with gold accents on each side of them.

A large sparkling chandelier dominated the center of the room, suspended in midair and well lit by magic. And directly below it was a long cherry wood dining table that could hold up to twenty guests. But at that very moment, the table only had three dinner-plate settings.

The lord of the manor sat at the very head of the table. The headmaster took his right side. And the future heir sat on his left. The second they took their seats, their first course was magically serves and the three men ate quietly.

The only sound that could be heard across the room was the clinking of the silverware across the plates. What could be felt, however, was the multi combination of awkward tension permeating the air.

The Malfoy men had their eyes glued to their plates. Severus on the other hand was shifting his gaze between the two men sitting in front of him, studying their body language with interest. He pursed his lips and decided to end the silence once the second course was served. After all, there was a purpose to these weekly dinners and this quietude wasn't one of them.

"So … Draco, your first week went smoothly?"

Draco's hand stopped cutting the piece of meat on his plate and cautiously eyed his godfather. His swirling silver eyes took a second to look at his father who also stopped moving his hand over his own plate in place of giving his undivided attention to his only son. The young wizard sat up straighter and gently used the napkin resting on his lap to dab his mouth before speaking.

He glanced directly at his godfather, and smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was a practiced smile. A _courteous_ smile – Severus noted.

"I was pleased with how smooth it went. It was as though I had never even left."

"Are Nott and Zabini's boys treating you well?" Lucius inquired.

Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes. He wasn't a child anymore to worry if other boys were being nice to him, but some habits would never diminish no matter how much time passes – like having a parent constantly worry after you.

"Yes, father." Draco smirked.

Lucius nodded, a small hint of relief reflected in his eyes yet otherwise his expression was as stoic as ever. "Good." He replied. "So, Severus .." he turned to his long time friend. "How are the reconstructions faring with the Quidditch field?"

Severus took notice that despite the subject of the conversation being something Draco took great interest in; his attention however went back to his plate yet his eyes glazed with inattentiveness.

The dark-haired wizard regarded his friend. "It should reach its completion before the season begins. With more than enough time for the captains of each house to hold try-out for members and practice until their limbs are bruised and sore."

"Speaking of ' _captains_ ' – when are they to be announced?" The Malfoy patriarch inquired as his icy pale eyes shifted to his distracted son for the briefest of seconds.

Snape frowned at the young wizard. Now he was growing rather worried. He already knew ahead that his godson would be Slytherin's team captain as he weighed his opinion heavily on the matter to Slughorn. And Horace, being the pushover that he was, instantly agreed to the decision without any misgivings.

But still – it couldn't hurt for the young man to show, at the very least, a _hint_ of enthusiasm.

* * *

After dinner Lucius received an owl that required his immediate response, giving Severus the opportunity to track Draco down, who shortly excused himself and disappeared off into the manor.

It didn't take a significant effort to find the Malfoy heir as he was standing by the large fountain, in the lush evergreen garden at the back of the mansion.

The dark wizard purposefully made sure his dragon hide boots produced a soft squelching sound on the soft grass to declare his presence to the young man. But Draco didn't seem to realize it, as he was giving his godfather his back, and was gazing intently at the butterfly Koi fish swimming in the serene fountain – the fish were enchanted to emit a golden glow, making the entire fountain and the small area within its distance ethereally luminescent.

"Perhaps we should finish the conversation we started back in my office – don't you think?" Though it was spoken calmly, the blond wizard still jumped at the sound of the older man, and spun around to face him.

Draco looked around when he noticed it was only the two of them standing alone in the garden. Yet, and to Snape's curiosity, he still remained tense.

"Where did father go?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "He was momentarily engaged. So I gave him the privacy to tend to his business." His obsidian eyes scrutinized the young man in front of him. "I could almost be offended to sense that my presence is making you uncomfortable, Draco."

The pureblood shifted from one foot to the other. "Trust me, uncle, its not you – I swear. I was just thinking … about stuff." He tried to avoid his godfather's naturally intense gaze.

"Draco ..." Severus sighed. "If you aren't going to talk to me, nor your father, about what is on your mind, then _who_ are you going to talk to?"

The young Slytherin's posture snapped straight. "But I _have_ been talking to someone! Well … w-what I mean is … I m-met someone …" his tone drifted off.

"A girl?" Severus smirked.

Draco sputtered in a most unbecoming manner. "Of course _a girl_ , uncle!"

Snape deeply chuckled. "It was not my intention to offend. I know that with youth comes many curiosities."

"Trust me – I am not _THAT_ curious, yeah?" Draco snorted.

The older wizard nodded. "Very well – Tell me about her."

The Malfoy heir scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not ready yet. To talk about it, I mean. It still new and all."

"Does your father know?"

Draco appeared nervous. "No, not yet. I'll tell him when the time is right. He has a lot on his mind, a lot to worry about – So … We can keep this between us for the time being, yeah?"

The dark wizard sighed as he approached his godson and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Alright." He agreed. The young blond relaxed his tense shoulders.

"However …" Severus tapped his agile fingers on the boy's shoulder as they met eye to eye. "Don't wait too long."

Draco solemnly nodded.

Snape smirked, seemly satisfied as he released his hold on his godson and clasped his hands behind his back. "Does she make you happy?" he suddenly asked.

Draco's eyes instantly warmed. "Yes … well, more than happy. She makes me feel things I haven't felt before. Things I didn't know I was able to even perceive."

"Such as …" the older man probed.

"Peacefulness, fulfilled, _alive_ … I … I feel complete!" Draco looked up into the starry night sky. And for the first time that evening, his face blossomed into a smile that gave his cheeks a light rubescent tint.

While Severus was gladdened to hear that his godson has found someone that is able to fill a void he seemed to have had in his soul. He couldn't deny the small sliver of envy he felt at not having someone of his own to invoke such sentiments in his own bitter life.

The older wizard left the young heir in the garden to join the Lord of the Manor for an evening of masculine bonding, distractions, and a bit of drinking from the most expensive and vast supply of spirits galleons could attain. Before returning to the school for the night. _And_ starting the next morning and the new week with a probation trial on a certain perplexing – yet bewitching – Gryffindor princess.

 _ **To be continued …**_

* * *

 _Part Two is in progress. Thank you for the support on the first chapter! And Happy New Year!_


	3. Severus Snape - Part Two

**Disclaimer:** All characters mentioned in the following story are owned by J.K. Rowling unless stated otherwise. Plot and events were written by me. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

CHAPTER 3  
 _ **Severus Snape : Part Two  
**_

" _Lust was a thorn._ _She_ _was covered in thorns_."

Hangovers were a bitching harpy. But Severus Snape was ever so grateful for the invention of a Revitalizing Draught to wipe all the symptoms away come early Sunday morning.

He couldn't recall drinking so much the night before – But then again, it was _Lucius_ who took hold of the Bourbon decanter and refilled his tumbler for him every time he took a swig from the glass.

But despite curing his hangover, it did nothing to uplift the Slytherin's dour mood. As he traversed through the halls of the Castle while students warily glued themselves to the walls to get out of his way.

Upon reaching the Great Hall, the Headmaster took to his seat at the center of the dais. While Teachers chirped their greeting to him one by one as they seated themselves at the head table. Students began to also fill the hall rapidly for their breakfast course.

Snape found his sharp eyes honing in on the Gryffindor table. Unconsciously looking for a certain _witch_ that should be mindful of her behavior, least she finds her position as Head Girl compromised beyond redemption. However, his search was futile, as it seems the girl has yet to arrive for the meal.

As his eyes lingered at the Gryffindor table, the Headmaster noticed that the young War Hero was already seated and shuffling his food about his plate. Not even lifting the seized utensil to eat from his platter. Which was peculiar for the older man, for all of _one_ second, before his curiosity was answered in the form of a young ginger girl glued to Potter's side.

Even from a distance away, it would appear that the little Weasley girl seemed to be chattering nonstop next to the Boy-Who-Lived, yet he didn't seem to be paying her any mind. If anything, it would seem like she was _grating_ on his nerves.

Snape found this to be rather amusing as not too long ago Potter was all for pining after the little witch. Yet now, it seems his preferences have changed in regards to the Weasley girl – Although _she_ didn't seem to get the memo. And it appeared like Potter was too much of a candy-arse to tell her off.

Before Severus could get _too_ disturbingly invested into the boy's love life, which was more attention than he cared to give it. His dark eyes went to his own House's table. He, very subtly, frowned as he noticed that his godson had also not turned up for breakfast yet.

But – _speak of the devil_ – there he was, the Malfoy heir. As he walked through the Great Hall entrance and marched confidently (the type of confidence only a Malfoy could champion) to his House's table. He took a seat between Nott and Goyle, with Crabbe and Zabini sitting across from them. The Parkinson girl looked rather indignant as Draco refused the seat she saved for him and attempted to, unsuccessfully, brush off the disappointment.

The Nott heir engaged the blonde Slytherin in conversation. Draco looked slightly tense by something Nott had said, although it was hardly noticed by his Housemates, as the tension was apparent in the blonde's shoulders. Yet he managed keep his facial expressions in check. It made the dark wizard nearly curious as to what Theodore Nott Jr. could have said that might cause the Malfoy heir to blanch ever so subtly. He would have to question Draco on the matter once they are presented with a moment alone.

The entire hall buzzed with the sound of utensils clattering and conversations being exchanged. For a moment, all seemed as the norm, practically like any other Sunday morning.

However, seemingly, a large margin of the conversations circling the Hall's atmosphere suddenly dimmed at the appearance of a certain Gryffindor witch – as a matter of fact, the Headmaster took notice how incredibly _hushed_ the Slytherin males were the moment the girl was within their sight. Most males from other Houses were as well, but Severus paid more attention to his own House.

His dark eyes covertly followed the girl's nonchalant saunter as she approached the Gryffindor table. The first sign the wizard noticed was how Potter instantly jumped to life the moment he caught sight of the brunette witch. And a wide smile stretched on his face. The Weasley girl, unaware of the boy's sift in behavior, waved to the older girl.

Granger gently placed her books and her bag beside her as she gracefully lowered herself in her seat beside the spectacled boy. She smiled gently at the War Hero and placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a light squeeze, before letting go as she reached out toward the stack of toasted bread slices.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he studied the aura of the entire Great Hall. What was once buzzing conversation, _now_ turned to perceptible whispers, as it seemed obvious even to a baboon just exactly _who_ was the topic of their concealed chatter was.

The dark wizard was waiting for such a situation to point out to the girl that her behavior had provided a trigger to instigate such blatant transgression among the student body. However, other than greeting her friends and eating her breakfast, she did nothing to initiate such a reaction …. _yet_.

Perhaps it was the effect of what she had previously done before the issue was brought to the Headmaster's consideration. And it was only a matter of time before he could hold the proof over her. But for now, he would have to be patient. He was, after all, the most patient man in existence.

Snape leaned into his chair as he looked back to the Slytherin table. Unlike his peers, the blonde heir seemed to be interested in staring down his plate as he ate. But the same could not be said for the other young men around the table.

Bizarrely, they looked like they were in a dreamy trance as they ogled towards the opposite side of the hall. And the dark wizard didn't need to be a divine genius to conclude on what got their knickers in a twist.

The elder Slytherin would have suspected they might have ingested a dose of _Amortentia_ that was secretly slipped in their drink. But unless the _entire_ male student body was drinking from the same tainted source, he highly doubted that was the case. That _and_ they didn't have that stupidly moronic grin of a frivolous dunderhead plastered all over their features, which was one of the symptoms of consuming the love potion.

No … this _effect_ caused by the witch seemed to stem from something else.

And Severus Snape was determined to resolve the matter.

And put an end to it once and for all!

* * *

Two days had passed and Severus was nowhere _near_ in finding a stark incident with which to hold the Gryffindor princess accountable for her actions.

Snape spared no facilities he didn't utilize in his search. He even monitored the girl in each and every class she had for the past forty-eight hours with the use of the Castle's sentient magic.

It would seem there were certain liberties that were allowed to the Headmaster that his predecessor failed to mention. Or perhaps it was a secret only shared amongst Headmasters of the school that his previous Headmaster botched to elaborate due to their trying times of war and a maniacal dictator overthrowing the Wizarding World – But whatever the situation may be, Severus was not made knowledgeable of the advantages until the Castle's magic merged with his own magic.

He found that he could undetectably see and hear all within the Castle grounds in singular situations, or all at once through any of the portraits, inanimate status, wall tapestries, even certain trinkets scattered about the classrooms that looked completely benign and unsuspicious.

The Slytherin also discovered that there were many hidden and secret passageways throughout the Castle that were only accessible to the Headmaster, and would only be revealed on his command, or if the need presented itself. And there were positively so many of them! That certainly eliminated many of Severus' unanswered mysteries on how Dumbledore managed to appear and traverse so easily around the school for someone of his advanced age. He took a bloody _short cut_! And appeared when you least expected the old prune.

With a sneer, the dark wizard reclined in the leather seat in his office. Clasping his hands on his flat abdomen, he pondered what he gathered from the last two days.

Suffice to say, the girl was as she had always been since her very first year at Hogwarts as a bushy haired, bright-eyed, hand always waving in the air, sort of student.

Though her attitude now displayed a more levelheaded eminence, and her overzealous participation has dimmed considerably. She was, without a doubt, still a picture of a model pupil. And has completely outgrown all her arse-kissing characteristics.

What he couldn't figure out, however, is how on earth was she creating such a distraction among the students, especially her male peers when she practically did nothing to egg them on.

But still, Snape wasn't blind. There certainly was something to be said on how much Hermione Granger has changed in the year since the war was over. As no one had seen her after the war and only then for her to show up out of thin air to complete her last academic year.

Her appearance was certainly far and wide from the gangly kid Snape used to teach Potions to. She was a young woman now. All mature and grown ...

A shiver passed down the wizard's spine as he realized where his thoughts were inappropriately heading. He straightened his posture in his seat and placed his palms on his desktop. He shouldn't be thinking like this.

He cleared his throat and pulled a stack of parchments that sat neatly on his desk awaiting his signature. As he got lost in his work and decided to tackle the other issue when his mind decided to stop acting so unethical and start being professional.

* * *

He was at his wit's end. And this was coming from the most patient person to exist.

But his profession was time consuming. And whatever the problem may be regarding Hermione Granger's cause for befuddling the students was proving to either be a misconception of the staff. _Or_ … the girl probably was scared stiff by the Headmaster's threat of demoting her from Head Girl that whatever sense has loosened itself from her head was now securely straightened back on.

Needless to say, Snape couldn't invest his entire schedule on one little girl who had to bat away unwanted attention from hormone-addled teenagers.

That is, until one Wednesday afternoon during a practical class in Herbology where the Seventh year were to dissect the vines of a Devil's Snare.

The day the Headmaster received a request from Pomona Sprout to include the unruly specimen in the curriculum was most unexpected. Amused with the Hufflepuff's application, the Headmaster signed his approval on the form – it would be interesting to see the students cringe in their attempts to pin and examine the uncontrollable plant.

During that class, the Slytherin situated himself in the solitude of his office and through one of the enchanted phials placed in the Herbology greenhouse; he observed the progress of the class.

The students were paired off into teams of three. They were presented with a six-inch piece of the black hostile plant in a large, magically unbreakable glass jar. And the moment the students began to open the lids to take out their plants and lay them out to be pinned on the workstation, the growing orchestra of frustration and annoyance echoed in the air.

A trio group of Hufflepuffs instantly dropped their Devil's Snare on the floor and attempted to chase and catch the leaping weed, but it proved too slippery for them.

Another group of Ravenclaws were holding the plant down while one of them tried to pin the needle in one side of the vine. Said student nearly pierced through his partner's index finger.

The Slytherin group, composing of Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott Jr., kept their specimen in the jar. And without opening the lid, the Malfoy heir pulled his wand out and cast a _Lumos_ on the plant, rendering it immobile, before he opened the lid and laid the plant on their workspace.

A brilliant move, the Headmaster thought, on the blonde wizard's part. And apparently it didn't go unnoticed by the Herbology Professor as she awarded ten points to their House. Severus smirked proudly at his godson's brilliance. But the dark wizard's attention was ripped away from the Malfoy heir when he heard a slight female shriek.

He shifted his focus on the other side of the greenhouse where the other half of the class was held in session and noticed that someone had idiotically slipped their hold on their Devil's Snare, which slithered to another student's work station to fuse with the other plant and grow into a vine twice its original size.

The plant grew uncontrollable and whipped in the direction of the Gryffindor's table. Its thin tip clutched the middle of Granger's robes, as she was about to take her wand out of its sheath, and ripped the front material of her heavy garment to shreds.

 _That_ is when Snape's dark eyes widened. And his nostrils flared with rage by what he saw.

Like a crow in the night, he practically flew out of his office. He passed through several connecting secret passageways until he reached the final one that got him near the Herbology room.

Without so much as blinking, he pulled open the door to the semi-darkened greenery and pointed his ebony wand at the wild, still thrashing, plant and cast an _Incendio_ on the black weed until it burned to a crisp.

Once the problem with the plant was sorted, the Headmaster turned promptly to the Herbology teacher. "Professor, might I take Miss Granger off your hands for the remainder of the class. There is a dire matter that needs to be addressed." He spoke rigidly.

The practically pale girl followed behind the flowing dark robes of the Headmaster when the Hufflepuff Head gave her approval.

Snape _finally_ knew where and why the complaints stemmed from.

* * *

" _I can taste the sin of Her."_

The dark Headmaster shut the door to his office loud enough that the sound echoed off the arch-like ceilings.

It caused the young Gryffindor to jump and that is exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to be scared. She was in a _lot_ of trouble.

Rubbing her hands together, the witch kept her eyes to the ground. "Shall I take a seat, sir?" she inquired nervously when the Headmaster remained silent for a long stretch of seconds.

"No." he finally uttered. "I would like for you to remain standing instead."

He slowly began circling around her, like a vulture over a prey. Through his second round Snape suddenly stopped when he was directly in front of her.

"You lied to me, Miss Granger." The Headmaster menacingly but calmly stated.

"Sir?" came her innocent reply.

He hissed. "Don't play coy, girl. When I summoned you the first time regarding the allegations on your distracting behavior, you pretended to be guiltless on your part – But I can see now you are a better actress than I thought you were."

The witch's eyes widened. "I swear, sir, I did not do anything to cause any disruption during classes! I have been trying my best to be on my finest …"

"Remove your torn robe." Severus interrupted the Gryffindor princess's rambling.

"Pardon?" The witch blinked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"I won't repeat myself, Miss Granger." The Headmaster sneered.

Slowly Hermione removed her heavy, dark robe and carefully draped it on the arm of the wingback seat.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Unless you have been reading the dress code with a cross-sight all these years, you would have known that this is most definitely _not_ proper dress code etiquette, _Miss Granger_."

The witched gripped her hands anxiously. "Sir, I can explain …"

"Oh this should be interesting." Severus scoffed.

"I did not alter my uniform, sir ..." She begun to say but Snape didn't let her finish.

"Do you take me for a _fool_ , Granger?" The dark wizard's eyes flashed in warning.

" _I swear, sir!_ These are the sizes I have been wearing for at least _three years_ now. My clothes have always been two sizes bigger than my actual frame – I have my fittings filed away at Madam Malkin's if you wish to further validate my statement. It's just …" the witch's voice began to tremble, and she averted her eyes to the ground once more.

"Speak up, girl!" Severus pressed. He didn't have the time for stuttering fools.

Hermione flinched before she spoke in nearly a whisper. "I don't know how, or why, b-but my b-body changed over the course of this year," her shoulders began to quiver and her voice gotten even quieter. "I didn't know how to adjust my clothing properly. My mother was the one who usually did that."

Severus unintentionally had to take a step closer to be able to hear what the girl was saying. "And where are your parents?" he suddenly found himself asking.

"They are dead, sir. The plane I p-put them on to e-escape, before the war started, never made it to its-s destination …" Hermione answered in a faint whisper.

The witch stopped talking and Snape understood why when he stood so close to her. The floor started to drip with her flowing tears as her delicate form began to tremble.

The dark wizard didn't comprehend why, although he made many students cry over the span of his tenure, yet for some odd reason the sight of the young Gryffindor princess weeping did not sit quite right with him. He felt a tinge of something he had never felt before; guilt.

His throat getting a touch dry, Severus cleared it before he spoke. "Miss Granger."

The girl did not respond to him.

Snape didn't know what possessed him but he found that his hand suddenly placed itself on the girl's trembling shoulder. This time, the witch did look up at him through the watery film of tears which stained her hazel irises. And Severus found it extremely unbearable to gaze into those anguished eyes.

Perhaps the years had finally softened his black heart, or perhaps the war has aged him quite a bit. Severus didn't know exactly which, but he knew that the girl has been through a lot in her young age. And the last thing he needed to do was torment her further especially since she lost such close people to her based on a choice she had to make that ended costing her more than she bargained for.

As Snape continued to gaze into Granger's delicate eyes, he sighed heavily. And said something he never thought he would ever say to a student; "My apologies, Miss Granger. I had no idea you suffered such a loss. It was insensitive of me. You have my condolences.

"However, the matter of your attire must be handled at once, as its very form fitting and not within school regulations. See to that as soon as you can – other than that I will turn a blind eye on this issue, just this once. Do not let it happen again." Severus hoped that his tone conveyed his remorse. Because he was never a man that knew what to say when it came down to comforting another individual.

The witch stood frozen, her tears hanging on her long lashes, and gazed in wide eyed bemusement at the wizard before her. For she did not expect to hear an apology offered from the heartless bat of Hogwarts' dungeons.

Suddenly she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the Headmaster's midsection as she started crying once more, except her tone this time was completely different.

"Thank you, sir! Really … thank you for being so considerate." Granger expressed as she pressed her face and her body to Snape's rigid form.

Severus stood in the middle of his office, completely stunned, with a young witch wrapped around him as she held onto him tightly. His own hands were hovering in the air, not sure what to do with them or where to place them.

And since he didn't know how to respond verbally to the girl, he placed a hesitant hand on her upper back to silently express that all is well. And that hopefully she would take that as a sign to remove herself from his personal space and detach herself from his person.

However, the Gryffindor seemed to have other thoughts as she spread her open palms on the dark wizard's lower back. And her nose was pressed into the folds of his black robes.

Snape thought he was imagining it, but it almost seemed like she was inhaling his scent. He also thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he felt the young woman practically purr when she got a whiff of his garments.

Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, Severus looked down at the top of the girl's head and called out to her in confusion; "Granger?"

The witch tiled her face up to him, while resting her chin on his chest. Her plump mouth was parted, her eyes looked hazy, and her cheeks were glowing red.

Snape felt his mouth water at the sight of her. She looked even more stunning up close. And he couldn't remember the last time he had a young woman this daringly close to him, or even wrapped around him.

But something in him suddenly snapped him into reality when his mind screeched to him that this was one of his students, _and_ that she was also Hermione Granger! … of all people.

The dark wizard was about to verbally protest that to her when suddenly the girl stood on her tippy-toes, and angled her face towards the taller man. And before he could even react, she pressed her lips to his.

She moved her mouth against his lips for all of three seconds before Severus grasped the girl by her shoulders roughly and pulled his face away from her.

He was panting. She was panting.

He still had his hands on her shoulders. And she still had her arms wrapped around his torso.

This should feel wrong to the man. He should stop her. He should stop _this_!

But fuck! … she felt so nice pressed against him. And it has been too damn long since Severus felt the curves of a womanly body. And oddly enough, her luscious hips fit nicely and precisely into his masculine form.

As though the witch was reading his thoughts, she grinded her body against Snape. Pert, soft breasts comfortably nuzzled his firm chest.

The witch's mouth parted even more as a feline like moan escaped her moist lips.

The Headmaster couldn't resist the vixen's temptations any longer as he held her face softly in his rough hands. "This is wrong." He whispered, more to himself than to her. Before lowering his face and kissing the witch.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the man's neck as he kissed her hungrily, darkly, like no man would ever dare to kiss a woman unless he intended to devour her.

He sucked on her plump lips until the girl opened her mouth fully under him. And Severus deepened the kiss as he dominantly plunged his tongue into her mouth without warning. But rather than be surprised by the intrusion, Hermione released a feral groan from the back of her throat as she laced her fingers into the wizard's soft dark hair and caressed his head.

Severus didn't want this to be over to soon, in fact he was only just getting started. But first, he wanted them to get comfortable as he scooped the Gryffindor princess effortlessly in his arms and gracefully glided to his desk.

Hermione didn't appear to be startled, in fact, she simply giggled as the wizard manhandled her. As Severus sat back on his chair and laid the girl on his lap like a sacred sacrifice.

However, before he continued, he grabbed his wand and enchanted the portraits to be covered by a black cloth that would isolate both sight and sound. While he was grateful that the magical portrait's occupants didn't catch the encounter, he didn't want to risk his chances. Especially since most of them had such vulgar language.

After he did the necessary charm, Snape placed his wand on the table and looked back to the witch that was gazing at him expectantly. His arm was secured around her waist to prevent her from toppling over, while his other hand softly landed on her thigh over her pleated skirt.

When she sensed that the man wasn't about to make a move, Hermione leaned her head towards him. However, he placed his fingers carefully on her mouth when he recognized her intentions.

The wizard narrowed his eyes and stared intensely into the girl's half-lidded dreamy chocolate gaze.

"Why?" Severus simply asked.

Hermione smiled bewitchingly, closed her eyes, and gently kissed the man's fingers as they still rested on her lips. She then opened her eyes and stared back at Severus's black gaze and said "Why not?"

Despite not having any other reason to hold against the witch, Severus could have easily pushed her away from him without even having to justify a cause for his actions.

While Snape was warring with his mind, Hermione brought his attention back to her when she curled her full pink lips around one of Snape's fingers and flicked her tongue on the pad before sucking on it all the way to the knuckle.

Severus was flabbergasted as he watched the girl, entranced by her wanton behavior. He pulled his wet finger abruptly from her mouth and replaced it with his lips instead.

As he passionately kissed the witch he positioned her to lay back further on his lap. Her head rested easily in the crevice of his shoulder and bicep as her legs dangled over his thigh.

Severus placed his hand on the girl's neck and felt her pulse racing under his touch. His fingers kept going slowly down until they touched the top collar of her blouse.

He stilled for a second until Hermione whispered against his lips "Keep going, please." Before she flicked her tongue inside his mouth to tease his tongue.

With his hand still on her collar, bit by bit, Severus slowly plucked at the buttons on her shirt undoing them from top to bottom.

Snape was half expecting and well prepared to come into view with a tantalizing scene of risqué undergarments, and he was in that moment wondering what kind of preference did the Gryffindor bookworm fancy in regards to intimate-wear.

What Severus didn't expect – when he unbuttoned the shirt and separated his lips from the appealing witch – was that the moment he pulled the opened blouse apart to expose the girl's chest, he was met with a sight of total frontal naked skin.

His mouth marginally hung open as he gaped at two full and round set of sizable bare breasts, with fair milky skin, and dusty pink rose-budded nipples. That seemed to have perked the second the dark wizard's eyes fell upon them. As if they were responding to the attention and admiration they were receiving.

Hermione's chest heaved as she enjoyed the lust that portrayed itself on the man's face as he admired her assets. She arched herself slightly as she felt pure pleasure at being the center of this man's attention – the man that for so many years never paid her any mind. But now, not only did he notice her, he also wanted her.

And as for Severus, something lost and long forgotten suddenly stirred within the man. Something basic, and powerful, and primal. He started to take deeper inhales of air, but the rush in his abdomen didn't seem to settle. If anything, it seemed to travel, downwards. As all the blood rushed into that one point in his body that has been ignored for a very _very_ long time.

When just the staring turned into agony, the witch shifted in his arms, her thick thigh brushed against the man's hardness as it was concealed within his robes.

The wizard felt the stirring in his loins as he looked at the vixen in his arms. He dragged his intense eyes to her face and witnessed how her skin glowed red, her eyes fighting to stay open, and her mouth forming an O as it sucked air like she was about to faint from the sheer arousal. And her beautiful hair mussed, yet still silky, framing that angelic face.

 _'By all the powers of Ceres herself!'_ She was stunning … Granger was absolutely stunning!

"Please …" Snape heard her say. She arched her chest further in the air, towards him. "Touch me … touch me, please. I want you."

Severus breathed heavily as he lifted a hand and very carefully placed it below the curve of one breast. He gently squeezed the supple flesh testing the witch's reaction. However, he didn't expect it to be so intense as Hermione mewled excitedly.

But it seemed to encourage the man as he began to knead the rosy flesh repeatedly. Her breasts had grown generously but Severus had _big_ hands, and her bust fit so nicely into them. As though they were made for him.

He flicked a callous thumb over Hermione's hardened point and she practically jumped in his arms as she closed her eyes, buried her face in his chest, and inhaled his masculine scent. Like it was torment yet it felt sweet.

Severus sensed as if he was in a dream, like this was all an illusion. The more he touched her the more she began to unravel sexually. He found it completely erotic. He found _her_ completely erotic.

He flicked her rosy peak, again and again, causing the witch groaned into his robes as she rubbed her thighs together.

The wizard's eyes went to the girl's curvy legs as he appraised them with masculine appreciation. He placed his other hand on her thigh and rubbed her leg as he marveled at how firm yet soft her skin was. Snape hadn't felt such soft, womanly curves, in years.

His fingers began to massage the girl's thigh while his other hand still worked on her breast. And little by little the hand on her leg kept going up and up, taking the hem of the skirt up with him, until he saw the peak of a soft baby pink, lacy garment. So lacy in fact that it was the only prime material covering the girl's lap, making the knickers entirely see-through.

Severus felt his mouth go dry as he could very clearly see the slit of the girl's cunt. And the moisture that was leaking from the seam, wetting the base of her panties.

His fingers on her leg itched to touch that forbidden spot. And as though she was reading his mind, again, Hermione brought her mouth to place a long heated kiss on his lips before she spoke in his ear. "Touch me. _There_."

She took a hold of his wrist and brought the dark wizard's hand to where his fingers would touch the wet spot on her underwear. And she tilted her hips so that his fingers would press on the center of all her desires.

" _Show me how much you want me_." She growled intensely. Like a wild feline.

Severus silenced her by pressing his mouth back on hers. His hand on her breast grasped a nipple and began to roll it between his fingers. While his other hand worked between her legs.

He stopped thinking. He thought too much. And just allowed himself to relish the pleasure he was getting from giving the girl her own pleasure.

"Spread your legs wider." Snape told her. And Hermione dutifully obeyed.

Snape's dominance was rearing its dark presence. And in any other situation it would have frightened a person. But in this situation, it was more than welcomed. The witch seemed to get even wetter as he ordered her.

He pressed two digits on the girl's soft, swollen, bundle of nerves over her wet knickers. And rolled the pearly nub around. Hermione grounded her hips into the man's pelvis as he worked his skillful fingers on her.

He so strongly wanted to touch her without the barrier of her knickers separating her sensitive flesh from his hand. But he was still mindful that he was in his office, on a school day, with a semi-topless student getting fingered by her Headmaster.

Severus wanted to be ashamed of himself for this indecent act. But he didn't have it in him.

After all, she was an adult now. And so was he.

And a dark, possessive part of him wanted her with each second. The part of him that was selfish yet never claimed anything, and always stayed away from such temptations.

But now, after all these years, and after the horrible war; Severus Snape _earned_ this.

The minutes felt like seconds as Snape moved his hands even faster when he sensed the witch growing tense in his arms. Her mouth hung open, her eyes were shut tightly, and she stopped breathing. She was close and she had his fingers drenched

With one final swirl of his fingers and a tug on her breasts. The girl came undone as an intense climax rocked her body. And left her twitching and moaning lustfully. Her fine back arched into an angle where it looked almost painful until she collapsed back into the dark wizard's solid embrace.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. And Severus could see they were still glassy as she was riding the high of her pleasure.

Her kiss swollen lips stretched into a lazy smile that took the man's breath away. She leaned her head, her hand cupped the wizard's chin as she pecked him on the lips.

"You are amazing." Hermione spoke in a dreamy-like voice and then kissed him again. Only this time Snape held the back of her neck and dominated the kiss.

The Gryffindor princess shifted in his lap to adjust to a better angle when she accidentally brushed against something that made the wizard suddenly groan roughly.

Hermione looked down between them and caught sight of the impressive …. " _thickness_ " between the Headmaster's legs.

She looked up at the unsuspecting man from under her long lashes before she bit her bottom full lip and pushed herself away from his lap so suddenly that he didn't know what she was up to.

That is, until the next moment she went down on her knees and said, "My turn." And proceeded to release Severus from the confines of his trousers.

Her little hands were too quick and Severus was too late to snap out of his shock as he hissed "Wait! … Granger, I said _wait_!"

But already Hermione had a grip on his naked velvety shaft, while she inserted the tip between her kiss-swollen lips and proceeded to orally pleasure her dark, cynical, and often stern Headmaster.

* * *

" _The forbidden inevitably favors the sweetest._ "

The next day Severus entered the Great Hall for breakfast in a relaxed mood. Which was a rare thing. He still greeted his colleagues rigidly but it was not with the usual sour glare.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that prior to entering the mess hall, he spent a good fifteen minutes or so in an intense lips and tongues duel with a certain seductive Gryffindor minx.

He could still taste her on his lips, and feel her voluptuous warmth in his arms. As he hugged her to him when they secretly met in the hidden alcove in the grand library – that only a bookworm like her, and an avid reader like him knew of its location.

After the Headmaster took his seat on the dais, Hermione entered the Great Hall minutes later after him, as to not rouse suspicions from the students and teachers.

She did not meet his eyes when she walked in. However, the moment she took her usual seat at the House table, her warm brown eyes met Snape's and she smiled demurely and sent a covert wink his way.

The wizard looked down at his plate and tried not to smirk. The fact that they were sharing a secret unbeknownst to the hundreds in the Great Hall was proving to be an exciting thing in an otherwise mundane day.

After breakfast was over, Snape went to his office to clear a few paper-works sent over from the Minister. He had anticipated the noon to pass by with him looking over the documents until lunch before owling the papers back to Kingsley.

However, after an hour passed by, the wizard felt someone approaching the gargoyle statue to request permission to enter. He sighed as he pinched his nose and waves his magic to allow the visitor entry.

He did not expect the person behind the door to be his godson, as Draco stepped in and close the door carefully behind him.

Severus frowned and motioned for the young heir to take a seat. "Don't you have a class right now, Draco?"

The Malfoy shrugged. "Class ended early – Slughorn accidentally knocked over a jar of crushed bursting mushrooms into a cauldron of _Veritaserum_ antidote and it exploded all through the laboratory."

The dark wizard slammed his hands on the desk as he rose from his chair. "Fucking hell! Did any students get hurt?"

Draco flopped onto the wingback and shook his head. "No, don't worry. Everyone is fine, yeah? …" then he smirked cheekily. " … even Slughorn, since you are _so_ concerned for our professor." He added sarcastically.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the blonde young man. "That's what the old fart gets for prancing haphazardly around volatile materials! Why did we even bring him out of retirement was beyond me."

The dark wizard took a deep breath before he managed to finally calm down and speak in an even tone. "Since no one was hurt, by some miracle – what is the damage level to the class room?" he asked.

Draco tilted his head as he examined his nails. "There is a foul odor from the smoke, but I imagine a day's worth of airing should solve that. And other than a few broken jars; the damage is very minimal." He replied.

The Headmaster sighed while arranging the documents on his desk in a neat pile. "I still have to head over there and personally appraise the situation." Then he looked curiously back at his godson. "Did you come all the way here to tell me that?"

The Malfoy heir straightened from his slouched posture on the plush seat. "Actually no, uncle," he said. "I came to talk to you about another matter."

"Oh?" Severus said distractedly as he bent to rummage through his desk drawer, half listening to what his godson was saying. "Pertaining to what?"

The blonde wizard's handsome face stretched into a wide grin that his godfather couldn't see as he said "About a certain … sexy _Gryffindor_ witch, and all the titillating fun activities she told me you engaged in together in this very office."

Snape's entire frame froze and he slowly turned his head to look at his godson who, in that moment, had the most mischievous smile on his chiseled dashing face.

"What did she tell you?" he slowly asked.

"Don't worry, uncle – _Our witch_ would never betray you." Draco replied.

* * *

 _I couldn't get this chapter done in time because I am still in denial about Alan Rickman's passing. I don't think I will ever fully accept it. Life can be so unfair sometimes when we lose good people before their time.  
Well, Snape's main part is over, for now. I wonder who the next Slytherin victim will be in the coming chapter for our little Gryffindor "Nymph" … let me know your thoughts._


	4. Theo & Blaise

Disclaimer: All characters mentioned in the following story are owned by J.K. Rowling unless stated otherwise. Plot and events were written by me. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

CHAPTER 4  
 _ **Theo & Blaise**_

" _A little give, a little take."_

"Hey –"

" _Hey!_ " The unbelievably _handsome_ and young Theodore Nott Jr. hissed to his Housemate seated next to him.

Blaise lazily took his eyes away from the book he was reading to see what his best friend wanted. His posture was more laid back and relaxed in his seat, while Theo was hunched and tense – They were polar-opposites in characteristics and believed their contraries is what made them become such good mates – with Draco being the young man who possessed a little of both tendencies, which often made him the catalyst-middle-man of the trio.

And speaking of the ' _middle man_ ' of the trio, the Nott heir discreetly pointed with his chin to where Draco was sitting a little farther down the table. The blonde wizard told his friends that he wanted to focus on revising his Arithmancy essay before his class with Professor Vector later that day.

The two men didn't object to the Malfoy's request. They had their own work to focus on. Their Seventh year barely even started and they were already feeling the pressure of being knee-deep in assignments in just a span of a week and a half.

Currently they were all seated in the independent study hall. A slighter counterpart to the grand hall. There were several students from other houses, but the room wasn't crowded. Each long table was reserved for each House. And sitting at their Slytherin table was just the two men and Draco. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables had a few students studying quietly here and there.

And lastly, the Gryffindor table had only first and second year students gathered in a semi-large study group – Theo was slightly disappointed at that. He was expecting a certain _witch_ to be present there. However, he didn't see her all morning. And all but managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of her during breakfast. But the grand hall was so crowded that he only spotted her when she stood up to leave.

Be that as it may, that wasn't what had bothered the Nott heir as he buried his mind in his school work. For as he lifted his eyes for a second, he looked to his blonde Housemate and he noticed that the young Malfoy didn't even unpack the contents of his schoolbag on the table.

Instead, he had a book in his hand and he was pretending to read it. ' _Pretending_ ' being the key insight there, as his eyes were glued to the doorless entrance of the study hall.

' _Why?'_ – both the Slytherin men wondered thoughtfully.

They didn't know, however, how fast their question was going to be revealed. Because in the very next moment the waltzing presence of the _Gryffindor princess_ glided past the door in all a breath of a second before she disappeared on the other side of the arched doorframe. The young Malfoy couldn't have collected himself any faster before he took off after the witch.

Nott Jr. turned to face Blaise before he mouthed ' _No_. _fucking_. _way!_ ' – Blaise merely blinked, almost like his mind wasn't processing what he just saw fast enough. But when it finally clicked into place he stood abruptly, not caring that he made quite a bit of a clatter in front of the other students, as he – with one arm – swept his belongings and dumped them inside his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Theo was a moment late but close behind his friend. And neither of them remotely cared that they were getting an eyeful of weird looks from the younger students in the room. They just … _flew_ out of the hall!

They were close on Malfoy's trail but not too close, and not before casting a _disillusionment charm_ on themselves, something Blaise had suggested. For good reasons too, as every few seconds Draco would look back over his shoulder to ascertain he wasn't being followed as he walked behind the young seductive witch – _She_ , however, never looked back and kept calmly marching forward, only veering when the corridor bent to continue either left or right, her auburn long hair whipped as she made each sharp and confident turn to an unknown destination.

The group, both disillusioned or otherwise, seemed to have walked for nearly five minutes. The hidden duo was starting to get quite anxious. And when they reached another bend in the hallway that went right they turned to follow the couple a few seconds later, only to face an empty catwalk.

Theo and Blaise froze.

They looked around, they were alone apart from each other's presence. Malfoy and Granger were nowhere to be seen. It's almost like they vanished into thin air. Which was impossible as they can't disapparate since anyone inside Hogwarts isn't allowed to apparate neither in nor out of any area on the enchanted grounds.

"That sneaky bastard!" The Nott heir seethed as he forcefully flung his schoolbag on the floor. He didn't even care as he heard the break of his ink bottle while its onyx contents seeped into his belongings, blotting anything it touched.

However, the calm and much poised Zabini sighed as he took out his wand and magically reversed the ink back into the (now) mended bottle. He knew his best friend would be kicking his own arse once he simmered down and saw the damage he did to his belongings when the ink would have dried and the ruin was too far gone to be fixed.

Blaise elegantly leaned down, grabbed the pack, and softly handed it to Nott Jr. The young heir, seemingly calmer to his outburst a moment ago, reached out and took his schoolbag. Though he still had a bitter twist on his lips as he muttered a 'thank you' to his Housemate.

"They couldn't have gone far." Blaise softly mused.

Theodore ran his hands through his light brown hair and asked, " _What_ do you suggest we do then?"

The French-Italian wizard smiled widely to his Housemate. "Why – we wait, of course! Draco still has Arithmancy before supper is served. He is bound to turn up sooner or later. And something tells me … wherever they went to, they are sure to reappear from whence they came." He explained as he gestured by tilting his head to the dead-end the duo stood in front of.

With a disgruntled resolution from the Nott heir, the two young Slytherin hid a little off to the side, into a shallow alcove beside a withered stone statue of an unknown knight.

And they waited …

* * *

" _It's not what others feel about you,  
it's what feelings you share with others."_

Forty-five minutes later, on the dot, the two Slytherin wizards heard a noise from down the hall.

They were passing the time quietly reading a book and sitting cross-legged on the floor, when they sensed movement other than their own within the corridor. The two young men silently looked to each other before they carefully rose on their feet and peered from behind the alcove's pillar.

They were shocked to find a door practically materialize right in the middle of the walls of the hall they stood in. They "heard" of the _Room of Requirement_ , when it was discovered several years ago, but this was the first time they ever saw one.

The large door slowly opened and from behind it emerged Draco with Hermione behind him. The moment they closed the door it disappeared from sight like it was never there.

The two suspects looked to one another – Granger was blushing bright pink and she absolutely _glowed_ in the candle-lit passageway. Her lips looked plumper and redder than usual. Her long wavy locks were slightly mussed – And as for Malfoy, his white shirt was pulled from its neat tuck inside his trousers and looked wrinkled. His robes were discarded and hung on his elbow. His tie, that was usually neatly knotted around his neck, was bundled and shoved in the front pocket of his trousers. And his mope of platinum blonde hair was soo tousled it looked more like the end of a broomstick. _And_ … he had a large grin on his lips that seemed to be perpetually stuck on his face. All in all, he was sporting a look that showed he was quite pleased with himself.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Blaise was mildly stunned. But Theodore; he was absolutely fuming. It was a miracle hot steam didn't suddenly burst from his ears and nostrils. His face certainly seemed like it was about to do just that. And if looks could kill …

The young Malfoy pulled his wand out and waved it as he recited an incantation that put both him and Hermione's appearances back into their usually tidy order. He tucked the wand back into his robes once he was done putting the garment back on, and turned to face the mesmerizing witch. He lifted a long pale elegant hand and held the witch softly by her chin before he bent down to whisper something in her ear that the two young men in hiding couldn't hear. But it must have been something very _titillating_ as the Gryffindor princess's blush deepened to crimson and she giggled softly.

The bell-like sound sent a jolt straight down the two men's spines. It was a delightfully warm tingle. But when Draco brought his face closer and sealed his lips over the seductive witch to smother her laughter, that warm tingle turned icy cold faster than one could say 'Merlin'.

Nott and Zabini already suspected that their best friend and the war heroine were in a tryst the moment they emerged from the _Room of Requirement_ looking like they were swallowed and spit out by a hurricane. But to see the actions of their passion displayed right in front of their very eyes was a different matter entirely.

The Nott heir emerged from his hiding spot even as the two lovers were still in a lip lock. He ignored his mate's protest and pulled his arm away when Blaise reached for it to pull him back into the alcove.

It seemed that Granger and Malfoy were so focused on each other they didn't notice the other presence in the corridor. But when Nott Jr. clapped his large hands once, the sound was strong enough to bounce across the stone walls of the hall, the couple jumped and separated.

Draco's eyes widened when he spotted his Housemate. A second later Blaise also emerged from the arched nook. And the tall blonde wizard pulled the silent witch behind him, away from the attention of the other two Slytherin wizards.

"I can't believe you, Draco! How could you do this?" Theo sneered.

"I can explain ..." Draco replied as he pushed his hair back.

But Theo interrupted him. "After all the bullshit you tried to feed me about not being interested in Granger – you can just shove your explanations up your _arse_!

"It literally blows my mind how I fell for your attempts to try to convince me to not pursue her. When all that time _this_ was happening right under my nose!" The Nott heir waved his hand between Draco and Hermione.

The fair-haired young man sighed. "Look here, Theo. It's not like I had the pre-intentions of starting this thing with her just to spite you. It just … sort of happened, yeah? – and we've been keeping it a secret because we don't know how everyone was going to take it."

Blaise calmly spoke up. "Draco, I'm very disappointed that you couldn't trust us enough to inform us of your relations with Granger – and besides you knew very well that Theo fancies her." And then he boldly added. "As do I, as well."

" _What?!_ " Theo and Draco both exclaimed as they looked at their friend.

Blaise shrugged. "Just because I didn't openly verbalize my feelings like Theodore did, doesn't mean they weren't there."

Slowly, the witch that was the center of the topic, leaned her head from around where she was concealed behind the blonde heir's long stature and regarded Blaise as she delicately bit her bottom lip.

The Italian-French wizard met her gaze and winked causing Hermione to smile ever so charmingly.

Hermione turned her hazel gaze towards the Nott heir and observed him from beneath her long black lashes. Her eyes looked cloudy and hazy. And there was no mistaking the insinuation behind them as the little temptress of a witch scrutinized both the two strapping young men in front of her.

Theodore Jr. groaned. "Draco, mate – come on, look at her … she _wants_ us!" He waved his hand exasperatedly.

Blaise, the calmer one, tilted his head playfully when Hermione gazed at him. "Don't you, sweetheart?"

The witch smiled bashfully before hiding her face in the crevice of Draco's arm.

Draco's sense of masculine rivalry flared in his liquid-silver eyes as he stood resiliently between the witch of his desires and his long time best-mates. They may have been friends since infancy, but they never gave up something they wanted, they held a strong sense of competitive challenge among each other.

And like-wise, Blaise and Theodore knew that what a Malfoy wanted they gained and coveted with a passion. But there was always a way to compromise in certain situations (like this one) – and Blaise Zabini wasn't a Slytherin for just the sole reason of his long-standing heritage with the Emerald House …

Zabini straighten his posture and addressed the Malfoy heir. "I have a proposition, Draco." he said. "An _alternative_ solution, if you well…"

Draco raised his chin. "I'm listening."

"If you we cannot … 'court' her in _that_ way – then I propose an offering." Blaise stated.

The blonde wizard's face pinched in confusion, and he wasn't alone in that accord as even Nott Jr. looked at his best friend and wondered what he meant by that.

Blaise smiled as he saw the weird looks his Housemates were shooting him. Except for Hermione, who partially uncovered a part of her face and gazed at the Zabini heir in interest.

Blaise, once more, winked at her before he explained to his friends what he meant. "I want Hermione to put on a performance for us. Something a little _risqué_."

Draco snapped. "So … what? You want her to basically _striptease_ while you wank-off – is that it, yeah?"

"Yes, and no …" Zabini cleared his throat as he continued. Trying to word the next part impeccably. "She undresses and then _you_ , while following both mine and Theo's instructions, touch her in a manner _we_ want her to be touched – As though it was _us_ caressing her." He explained as he gestured to him and the Nott heir.

Theo's face lit up, already on board with the idea and very much eager as he looked to Malfoy.

Draco felt a stir in his loins as he imagined the possibility of such a proposition, already concocting the fantasy in his mind. But it wasn't just him that needed to consent to this – He looked down at Hermione and instantly knew her stance on the situation. The little minx was so turned on by the idea she practically quivered in her place.

"Well, mate …" Theo spoke up, a cocky smirk curved his lips. Draco regarded him carefully. "What say you?"

Even if they didn't hear the answer yet, the look on the blonde wizard pretty much said it all.

Draco lifted his chin and straightened his back. Which was a hard feat to do when the witch tucked behind him was lazily stroking his spine before she firmly cupped his taut buttock. It took everything in the young man's will not to get hard right then and there.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his soft hair. His silver eyes met his best-friends' patient gaze.

And then he finally said; "Fine. You got yourself a deal."

 _To be continued in part 2 …_


End file.
